


Wonderstruck.

by Wonderstruck2610



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction, Taylor Swift - Fandom
Genre: AU, Elounor, Enchanted - Freeform, F/M, Harry Styles/ Original Female Character - Freeform, Harry Styles/OFC - Freeform, Multi, Red - Freeform, Songfic, Taylor Swift - Freeform, Wonderstruck, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles friendship, all too well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderstruck2610/pseuds/Wonderstruck2610
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a world where One Direction are flat mates living in Manchester, England. It's a love story, based on the album "Red" by Taylor Swift, though she's not a character in this story, and you don't have to like her or her songs in any way to enjoy it.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is adapted from Taylors album "Red", and it follows and details a relationship Harry has. My plan is to have a few short chapters, and in the later chapters I intend to show more of the boys with each other and how THEY interact with their flat mates girlfriend, so it's not all about Harry.
> 
> The narrative is adapted from the whole album, but the main inspiration was the song All Too Well, though maybe I'll give them a happier ending than that...
> 
> Wonderstruck - Experiencing a sudden feeling of awed delight or wonder.
> 
> This is only the prologue, just to give you a bit of context, and I hope to carry it on. I don't care about how many hit's it gets as long as I know at least 1 person is going to read it all the way through. I'm not fishing for compliments or anything, but if you could just like, for this one chapter, let me know if you're gonna carry on or not, before I start writing and planning this all out. Thaaaaaanks x

The girl’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face of her friend who was lost somewhere within it. This was nothing unfamiliar to Samantha, standing alone in a crowded room, surrounded by familiar, but nameless faces. She’d spent the whole of her University experience distanced from the rest of the class who study English Language alongside her, often wondering why she had not chosen to study another subject. She’d made a lot of friends in her time at Manchester University, but none in her class, with the exception of her best friend and flatmate, Eleanor. She recognised them, had a few of them as friends on Facebook and even had the numbers of some of them and would text them occasionally, but other than that, she always felt like a bit of an outsider in her class.

And so, she stood alone in a large room of one of the biggest houses she had seen, her pink, sparkly dress cut off an inch or two above the knees and hugging her slender figure, her blonde naturally straight her now curly and resting just above her breasts, wishing that Eleanor would return soon with their drinks. Abby and Natasha, who were more Eleanor’s friends than Sam’s, were huddled in conversation a few feet away from her, and though they would frequently try to involve Sam, she just didn’t feel much like talking tonight, instead, forcing a laugh and faking a smile, her mind focused on her future.

“What now?” she asked herself, over and over again. She’d spent her life in education. Nursery, primary school, secondary school, college, and University, her path laid out in front of her and her next step an obvious choice for her to make, but the truth is, she just didn’t know where to go from here. She didn’t know her next step. And that scared her to death. Eleanor says she’s lucky, that she should stop worrying and enjoy life, but that was never really Sam’s style. Worrying, obsessing and overanalysing was more Sam’s style. Sometimes, she wished she was more like Eleanor, carefree and laidback, but the next morning, when Eleanor is crouched over the toilet bowl, vomiting out the multiple shots of tequila that she swore she could hold down, with Sam sitting on the side of the bath holding her hair out of her face, Sam usually decides that, sometimes, she was glad she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as Eleanor.

Just his face, looking at her through the crowds, was enough to break Sam from her train of thoughts. Her walls of insincerity and vacant personality vanished at once. She’s not sure how long he’s been staring at her, or, for that matter, how long she’s been staring back, and though she can hear a voice in the back of her head telling her to look away, or at least blink, she just couldn’t, her eyes focused on his, and his on hers, as if there was no one else in the room. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised the boy was making his way toward her, his brown, curly hair bouncing as he walked. His eyes, a peculiar shade of green, were still fixed on her blue ones, and she was more than certain he had noticed as her own gaze fell to his lips. Though she tried to convince herself it was the assortment of party food she’d forced herself to eat before she drank, secretly, even she knew that the funny, tingling feeling in her stomach was caused by the boy with the green eyes and the dimples standing before her. She always thought that feeling like you had butterflies in your tummy only happened to people in books and in Disney movies, where Prince Charming and his white horse will come along and sweep the princess off her feet, before riding with her in to the sunset to be married. She never, ever thought another person, a stranger without a name, would be able to make her feel like this just by looking at her. But he did, and as he stood in front of Sam, who was still staring at his now moving lips, she was sure that he could see the blush starting to rise in her cheeks.

“Sorry, what was that?” she asked, tearing her eyes from his lips, blushing and embarrassed that she too lost in her own daydream to hear him. The boy bit in to his lip to supress a laugh, but his dimples betrayed him and showed his joy.

“I said hi” he said, his voice a low, throaty groan that made him sound as if he’d just been dragged out of bed “You looked lonely over here, so I thought I’d come and introduce myself, ‘M Harry”  
The boy extended his long fingers towards her and shook her hand. It was only brief, gentle touch, but it was enough to send shivers up Sam’s arm and down her spine. 

“ I…I…erm, I’m Samantha, err…Sam, or Sammy… don’t call me Samantha. Only my teachers call me Samantha. And people who are angry with me” The boy, Harry, smiled again, and whilst his smile reassured Sam that maybe she wasn’t coming across as creepy as she thought, it didn’t help the feeling that her stomach was doing backflips inside of her.

“Ok, Sam it is. Is that a scouse accent I hear?” Sam chuckled. Manchester and Liverpool, Sam’s home town, may only be an hour apart, but everybody always noticed her accent, something Sam was oddly proud of. She supposed it was because it reminded her of home, and no matter where she goes in the world, whether it’s Manchester or Australia, it’ll always be with her, reminding her of where she came from and who she is.

“It is, I live here now, but Liverpool’s my home. It’s where my family are and where I grew up.”

“Like The Beatles?” Harry asked, though of course he already knew the answer. Everybody does, but everybody always asks “like the Beatles” the minute they find out where she calls home.

“Yes, like The Beatles, but unlike them, I didn’t come from Liverpool in the 1960’s, before you ask if I know them!” Sam laughs, shocked at her new found confidence toward a boy who made her a stuttering, nervous wreck just seconds ago. Her stomach flipped again as the boy laughed, a loud laugh that made a few heads turn, but one that made Sam oddly happy to hear.

“I wasn’t going to ask if you know them!”

“Oh, pfft, of course you were! Everyone always does! I went to Florida a few years back and there was an old couple from Texas who seemed completely baffled by the fact I didn’t regularly have Paul McCartney round for dinner”

Harry laughed, for longer this time, and Sam was captivated by it, happily smiling that it was her who made him laugh like that. Even when he stopped laughing and started talking again, Sam still couldn’t stop smiling. 

“So…I don’t think we’ve met before. Do you study at the Uni?” he asked. Sam was glad that it was him who decided to carry on the conversation. 

“Yeah, well. No. I guess I don’t anymore. Not after today, I had my last lecture”

“I had mine earlier this week. Scary, isn’t it? I feel like a proper grown up, now. What do you…did you study?” 

“English, hoping to become a writer. How about you? I mean, this is the end of term party for my class, but I don’t recognise you” 

“What? You don’t recognise me? I’ve sat on the same row as you for the past 3 years! I leant you a pen last week!” he protested, a shocked, and slightly hurt look on his face.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I mean…of course I recognised you, I just didn’t know where…” Sam began, before being interrupted by Harry and his deep laugh.

“I was joking! I’m not even in your class, I can’t believe you were going to lie about recognising me!” He still had a look of surprise on his face, but his wide smile and the look in his eyes showed nothing but amusement.

“Oh my god! That’s not even funny, why would you do that?!” She said with a giggle, her cheeks turning scarlet. She felt herself begin to lean forward, her arm moving slightly push him playfully, before she realised what she was doing and stopped herself. For a moment, there was silence. Not complete silence. The music of the party still filled the room, and people around them carried on with their drunken chit-chat, but both Harry and Sam had blocked them all out long ago. It was only when a familiar voice rang in her ears that Sam remembered they were not alone.

“Harryyyyyy! Hi! I thought you might be here!” said Eleanor as she lightly trotted her way over in her skin tight dress and tall, black heels, giving Harry a friendly hug before standing next to Sam and handing her one of the glasses of champagne she held in her hand. “You know when I said I wasn’t going to get that drunk before we hit the clubs? Yeah, well, I tried, but Lou was at the bar and practically forced me to down a shot…or 5. I didn’t know you two knew each other!”

“We just met, actually.” Sam stated, sipping at her champagne. Harry nodded his agreement.

“Oh, well, Harry here is roommates with Lou!” 

“You are? So you practically live alone then, considering Lou spends most of his time messing up my apartment” Sam joked.

“Our apartment, and that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about! Besides, they don’t live alone, there’s five of them. The whole place smells like boy. That’s why I insist that when we hang out, Lou has to come to our place. They’re all over at the bar, Haz, thought you’d be over there with them!”

“Well, I was, until you…” Harry gently prodded Eleanor’s shoulder “abandoned your friend, and left her standing alone looking like a lost little puppy!”

“Heeeeeey…I did not look…”

“I didn’t abandon her! I went to get our drinks! Besides, I assumed she’d go and talk to her boyfriend…” Boyfriend. The mention of the word seemed to change the atmosphere of the whole room. For a few short minutes, it had slipped Sam’s mind that she wasn’t single. She felt as if she’d ran straight in to a brick wall. How could she have forgot she had a boyfriend? There was an uncomfortable silence lingering over the group. 

Harry seemed to sink in to himself. For a second, his smile seemed to falter, and there was hurt in his eyes. He seemed more reserved now, and though a smile had crept back on to his face, it was without the dimples that made Sam’s stomach somersault.

“…speak of the devil” Eleanor grunted, rolling her eyes and nodding her head toward a boy swaggering his way through the crowds towards them, with a scruffy beard and wild, messy hair, though it was obvious he spent a lot of time perfecting that look before he left the house.

“Hey babe” he said, snaking his fingers around Sam’s hips and pulling her towards him. “Who’s this?” 

He nodded towards Harry, but otherwise he ignored him, keeping an accusing gaze on his girlfriend.

“Oh, this is Harry, he’s Eleanor’s boyfriends roommate and…”

“Oh, cool. Listen, babe. Me and the guys are going to get off now, gonna go to a house party with some girls we know” he said, directing his words to Sam, but now glaring at Harry. Without another word, the boy kissed Sam on the side of her head and left without looking back. Sam opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.

“Oh, that’s fine…I mean, why would you want to celebrate finishing Uni with your girlfriend of 6 months?” Sam asked to no one in particular, staring at the doorway her boyfriend had walked out of. 

“Fuck him, Sam, we’ll have a much better night without him glaring at you across the room every time you so much as get within a metre another man. Come on, if you want me to keep my promise and not get drunk before we get to the clubs, we’re going to have to get their about 20 minutes ago! Tell Louis I said Bye for me Haz? And give him a big fat kiss on the lips from me, yeah? Cya!” chimed Eleanor, pulling a tongue at Harry as she dragged Sam toward the door. Sam looked back over her shoulder at Harry. She wasn’t sure, but she was sure the hurt expression on his face as he looked longingly at her was reflected on her own. “Just FYI, your boyfriends a prick, and Harry is single. I can get you his number if you like” she whispered in her ear. Sam shook her head and giggled, hoping Eleanor wouldn’t press the subject further; all the while secretly missing the warm feeling talking with Harry had left her. 

Eleanor dragged her out the door, down the steps and straight in to a taxi, and once more Sam was lost in thought. Lost in the hope that tonight was just the first page of the story, not the last, of what story she was not sure, but she knew it would be a good one. She wasn’t sure what it was, but Sam found herself drawn to the boy. In three minutes one boy managed to do what a whole class of people couldn’t do in three years, he left Sam wanting to get to know him, wanting to get to know him better. So many words rushed through her mind, words left unsaid, words she held back as she was dragged away from this, this boy with the most beautiful smiles and eyes she’d ever seen, and one word stuck with her. 

Wonderstruck.

The only word she could find that truly explained what she was feeling. Her cheeks flushed scarlet all the way to the club, wondering if he was left feeling the same, and if he knew just how enchanting she found him. Long after she stepped out of the taxi and in to the club, her thoughts echoed his name. 

Harry.


	2. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her initial meeting with Harry Styles, Samantha Stewart travels to London to visit her long-term boyfriend, in hopes of forgetting about the curly haired boy. But Sam get's more than she bargained for...
> 
> Harry Styles thinks about the blonde girl from the party. Well, he can't stop thinking about her, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on the songs The Lucky One, Come Back, Be Here and Girl at Home. 
> 
> I admit, these first two chapters have been very loosely based on the songs, but I promise after this, they'll start sticking to them, or featuring more of them, a little bit more.
> 
> Sorry this one took so long to upload, but after finishing this chapter I went straight on to writing the next one, so I hope that one will be uploaded a little sooner.

Samantha Stewart has always been indecisive, even as a child. The idea that she might make the wrong choice, or that one of her decisions may lead her to missing out on something spectacular, always plagued her when she was presented with a choice, whether that choice was between what to order at Nandos (though it was always the Chicken Butterfly with medium hot sauce) or what course to do at University (After months of deliberation and changes, she settled the course she’d had her eyes on since she was fifteen). Her indecisive nature was no different when it came to boys, and though she insists to Eleanor, and to herself, she is more than happy with her boyfriend John, she still can’t stop her mind wandering back to the boy from the party. The boy with the curly hair, green eyes and dimples. The boy who gave her butterflies. He did not consume her thoughts, but he was always in them, the sound of his laugh in the back of her mind at all times. She would lie awake at night thinking about him, replaying their conversation in her head over and over again and imagining conversations and scenarios that could occur between them sometime in the future, even though she knew they probably wouldn’t.   
The very real and very serious issue of her semi-long-term boyfriend very rarely escaped her mind like it did on that first night. Sam was happy with John, and she was not the kind of girl to be unfaithful. Sure, her friends hated him, and her dad didn’t exactly approve, but she was happy. The distance was a problem, and Sam thought that it was her lack of her real boyfriend in her life that meant she was fixating on Harry so much. After they left University, John had moved back down to London, where his family was, and she’d stayed in Manchester. They’d only managed to see each other twice since then. She can still remember when she first brought John home and her whole family gushed over how good looking he was, and how lucky Sam was to have him (accept of course her disapproving father, who, despite Sam’s constant protests, insisted he was a “pretentious wanker with stupid hair”. Sam gave up arguing with him in the end). She thought that a spontaneous surprise visit to London to see John would remedy her missing him, and might also rid her of her thoughts about Harry, so she took the day off her job at the cinema even though she knew she needed the money, packed an overnight bag, called a taxi and boarded the 13:20 train to St Pancras, London.

-

Harry Styles sat alone on his couch, bored. Really, really bored. He’s only been awake for 2 hours and has already flicked endlessly through the television channels, before deciding there was absolutely nothing on he wants to watch and retreating back to his bedroom to watch porn. This was basically his daily routine when he had days off and his flat mates weren’t (At the minute, he was finding it hard to believe that all 4 of them were in work on his one day off this week, instead choosing to believe that this is some kind of conspiracy theory. He’s not sure what that conspiracy is exactly, or why his four best mates would be doing it, but he’s almost positive that something must be going on). Harry glanced at the clock for what must have been the two hundredth time that day and saw that it was now 3pm, the time Zayn finishes work for the day and, as long as he wasn’t staying to flirt with the new hot girl he’s been banging on about all week, he should be home in about twenty minutes. Louis finished at 2pm, and probably should have been home about half an hour ago, but he’s probably round at Eleanor’s, Harry thinks. He’s toyed with the idea of going round there, under the guise of locating Louis, but in reality to catch a glimpse of Eleanor’s roommate, Sam. He’s pictured the scene over and over again in his head, and he thinks it would be the perfect and only way for him to see Sam again, but he knows there’s no way he could trick Louis in to believing he’d only came round looking for him. He’s pretty sure Louis had caught on to the fact he has a tiny, not-at-all-out-of-control crush on Samantha the moment he met her, when he wandered back to the bar love struck and doe-eyed. Harry’s had more than his fair share of girlfriends, and more than anyone’s fair share of one night stands, but he doesn’t remember ever feeling this way about a girl before. He wouldn’t call it love, but he thinks that it’s the closest he’s ever came to calling it that before. He’s never been left with such an overwhelming, all-consuming sense of joy by the mention of someone’s name, by smelling the same perfume she wore on some random woman who passed by him in the street, or the thought that the blonde haired woman on the bus (who’s head he’s been staring at the back of for at least ten minutes now) could be that girl. It wasn’t, and even Harry was shocked by the feeling of devastation he at felt that realisation. A similar but not quite as painful devastation that he felt when he found out Sam wasn’t single. He wasn’t sure what it was; jealousy that he had her, or anger at the way he mistreated her, but Harry did know that there was no one in the world right now he hated more than he hated Samantha’s boyfriend. In some of his dreams, Sam had left her boyfriend for Harry the night they met, on others, he’d never even existed. 

The slamming of the apartment door dragged Harry out of his daydreams. 

“Oh good, at least your wearing pants this time. I’ve came home from work to see you with your cock out far too many times for my liking” said Zayn with his signature smirk, putting his bag on the floor and taking off his shoes. Zayn was, without a doubt, one of the best looking boys Harry had ever seen. Tall and dark, with a black quiff, chocolate brown eyes and cheek bones so defined that you could probably use them to cut a slice out of a pie. Zayn was fit, and he knew it. Everyone knew it.  
Harry chuckled at the joke as Zayn fell down on the couch, throwing his feet over the arm and resting his head on Harrys lap. When they first met, Zayn was very quiet and closed off from the rest of the boys. It took him a while for him to fully come out of his shell and for him to start acting more naturally around the boys. Back then, Harry never would have thought they could have such a close bond now, or that he could ever feel so comfortable around Zayn, or Zayn around him.

“Sorry mate, I just spend so much time around you, I can’t help but feel a little sexually frustrated” Harry retorted, squeezing Zayn’s cheek between his fore finger and his thumb. Zayn swatted his hand away and blushed slightly. 

“Nah, you were probably thinking about that blonde girl from that party. What was her name? Sammy?

“Fuck off, I weren’t” said Harry “Whatever Louis has said to you, he’s lying”

“Louis never said a thing mate. You did. You haven’t shut up about her since that party. Was she really that fit?”

“Was who really that fit?” asked Louis as he walked through the door with a wide grin on his face.

“Eleanor’s roommate” replied Zayn, before Harry could protest.

“Sam? Christ, yeah. She might actually be the fittest person I’ve ever seen” said Louis, sitting on the chair opposite Harry and Zayn “in fact, if I weren’t madly in love with her roommate, I’d probably try it on with her myself. Why d’ya ask? Harry been banging on about her again?”

“What do you mean “again”? I haven’t banged on about her to start with!” said Harry.

“He’s just been telling me how much he loves with her” Zayn remarked, ignoring Harry.

“Not surprising, she has that effect on many men, young Harold. Very rarely takes notice of them, though. I’m not even sure she realises half the time.” said Louis, not acknowledging Harry scowling at him when he called him Harold “I accidentally walked in on her changing once…”

“Please Lou, don’t describe it, I can already feel Harrys hard on digging in to the back of my head as it is” laughed Zayn, smiling to himself as Louis bellowed along with the joke. Harry, less than impressed, pushed Zayn’s head off his lap, and readjusted himself through his jeans (just for good measure). 

“Fuck off you twats. I’m not in love with her.” He grunted.

“Who are you trying to convince mate, us, or yourself?” asked Zayn, the sarcastic and joking tone of his voice now replaced with a more sincere one. Harry stayed silent..

-

Lucky. All of her life Sam was told she was one of the lucky ones. Personally, Sam liked to thing that she got to where she was today, a Uni graduate with exceptional grades, through a lot of hard work and revision. She remembers when she first met John, and how he tried so hard to win her over and to sweep her off her feet. He sent her flowers, took her out on dates at least once every week, and once he’d even dedicated a song to her at one of his bands concerts. The last time she’d seen him, standing on that train platform, kissing him goodbye, he’d told her that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. But she didn’t feel pretty anymore, she just felt used.   
Sure, he might be a pretentious wanker with stupid hair, and Sam knows that she could do better than him, but that doesn’t stop the tears that silently roll down her cheeks as she stares hopelessly out at the dark country side as it rushes passed the train window. All Sam had wanted for weeks had been to see John, to be in his arms again. She’d never imagined that when they were finally reunited, it would be one of the most heart-breaking moments of her life. She arrived in London in high hopes and spirits and, after leaving the cab driver with a very generous tip, ran up the stairs to her boyfriend’s flat four steps at a time. She knocked on the door and waited, brimming with excitement that she was soon to be reunited with her boyfriend, that there was now only a door between them and that any minute now, that door would open and she’d be met by his face smiling back at hers. But she wasn’t.

Instead she was met by the smiling face of a short, red haired woman around Sam’s age, with messy hair and wearing only underwear and Sam’s boyfriends favourite shirt, looking like it had been buttoned up in a rush. The two women stared at each other in silence, both equally confused.   
“erm, hi, I’m…I’m looking for my boyfriend? I thought he lived…” Sam started, before the appearance of a familiar face over the ginger girls shoulders left her speechless. 

Sam’s not sure how long the three of them stood in silence, gawking at each other. 

“Sam. Shit, what…what are you doing here?” asked john.

There was only silence once more. Sam wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. Should she punch him? Should she punch her?. Sam quickly ruled this out, noticing that the short, red headed girl with the pretty face and petite build looked just as confused as she did. All Sam knew right now is the anger, the betrayal and the jealousy bubbling up deep within her. Feelings so strong and so intent, she could almost see them burning red inside her. There was nothing beige about how she felt in that moment. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hit him in the face, and then cry. But she refused to let herself. Refused to let him see how much he has hurt her. Refused to let embarrassment and lack of dignity be added on to the feeling of heartbreak that was coursing through her veins. 

So she didn’t cry. She picked up her bag from the floor, turned on the ball of her feet and walked away, biting her lip and holding in tears. She stopped at the stairs, and looked over her shoulder.

“I really hope he makes you happier than he made me” Sam said, sincerely, looking in to the other girl’s eyes as she did so, and avoiding Johns. She could see in her eyes that she   
was feeling the same way Sam was.

The rest is a blur to Sam. Tear stained, misty eyed flash backs of the moment she had her first heartbreak, and the red headed girls voice screaming “who the fuck was she?” and “cut the bullshit, John” echoing through her mind throughout the whole train journey back to Manchester. Months of missing him, wishing he would just come back and be near her, wasted. Waiting on a boy who had a girl at home. A boy who forgot Sam no sooner than his train had pulled out of the station. A boy whose dark twisted games had dominated Sam’s life for the past eight months.

Lucky, they said, lucky to have a boy who cared so much about her. “That’s the thing with luck” thought Sam “it always runs out, in the end”.


	3. The Moment I Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Sam bump in to each other one more, but when she invites him to her birthday party to get to know him better, Sam has a change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a massive fan of this chapter, so I don't expect you to be either. But I just really need to post it, and move on from this chapter on to the next. I'm very eager to start seeing more of Harry/Sam start there romance, so I'm not going to linger on this chapter any longer.
> 
> It'd be nice if you could leave feedback as this is kind of a writing exercise for me. I'd especially like feedback in terms of length, 'cause I've been very conscious about this being too long while I was writing it, so I kept a lot back and skipped over a lot which I thing reduced the quality of the content.

The initial heartbreak of Sam’s first, proper break up had passed. She still felt sad when she thought of it, of course, and betrayed, but she knew now that this was a feeling she could get over, eventually. When she told Eleanor what she saw in London the brunette girl had stayed up all night with Sam, talking and crying, and successfully holding back the “I told you so” that Sam was sure was burning inside of Eleanor. The reason behind the speed of her recovery from heartbreak was probably down to the fact that not much had changed. Before the break up, she hadn’t seen John for months, so it’s not like she could miss having him around. He’d left her numerous texts and a series of voicemails, all of which Sam found the strength to ignore, except for one. It had seemed as if he’d given up trying to talk to her when he didn’t text her for a week, before he text her one more time out of the blue, saying only that he’d be back in town for her birthday and that they’d talk then. For a while, this didn’t bother her, but with it being the Monday before her birthday on Saturday , and her party the coming Friday, she couldn’t escape the fear of bumping in to him that was looming over her all week. 

It was Tuesday evening that Sam was finally convinced that she wouldn’t become the reclusive, antisocial hermit she became the first week after the break up. Also, someone needed to go shopping for food, and Eleanor was useless at that, her efforts that morning had led to nothing but her coming home with a new dress, new shoes and a selection of menus from local take away restaurants. So, Sam drove to Asda in her car, insisting that Eleanor accompany her, partly so she’ll realise how food shopping actually works and party because she wanted a friend with her in case, god forbid, she did bump it to John. Bringing Eleanor along with her had proved futile, as Sam was standing alone in the cereal aisle, her best friend and flat mate nowhere to be found, when she looked up and found herself staring right in to the eyes of a familiar face.  
Green eyes. The longer Sam stared in to them the deeper she fell in to their trance.

“You stare a lot, don’t you?” Sam could hear the smirk in Harrys deep voice before she saw it. 

“Easily distracted” she said. She contemplated winking, but decided at the last minute how utterly ridiculous that would make her look. Harry made a sound that sounded a bit like a chuckle, but didn’t last long enough for Sam to be sure.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked.

“Food shopping, which I always seem to be doing alone, despite the fact I live with four other people. You here with your boyfriend?” Harry asked, his voice deepening to a less cherry towne as he said the last part, silently hoping that Sam was about to tell him she was newly single and looking for love.

Well, he was half right, which is a start.

“I actually don’t have a boyfriend, anymore” she said, slowly and sounding slightly glum. “I’m not sure the girl I caught him sleeping with does, either. I’m here with Eleanor, who’s about as much help as your housemates”

“Maybe she should just move in with Louis all together and I could move in with you, we seem to be quite combatable” 

Harry regretted saying that the minute it left his mouth, though he didn’t show it, flashing Sam his signature half-smile hoping she’d take it as the joke it was meant to be. She did, and returned a smile to Harry.

“I don’t think I could cope with the endless stream of women you’d have over”

“Heeeey! What’re you trying to say” 

“Oh come on, don’t pretend someone as good looking as you never has girls over!” 

“Oh my god” Harry thought “did she just call me good looking? She thinks I’m good looking.” Harrys not sure why it made him so happy to hear that, plenty of girls had told him he was good looking before, but Sam was the only one who made his heart skip a beat when she said it. Harry realised that he'd been smirking and staring at Sam without actually saying anything for some time now, and was partly relieved when he felt a slap on the back of his head, distracting him from what he was sure would be an embarrassing verbal outburst to fill the silence.

“Hiya Haz. Sorry ‘bout the slap. Thought you were Susan Boyle from the back” said Eleanor with grin like a Cheshire Cat, dropping various items into Sam’s trolley.

“Why would you slap Susan Boyle on the back of the head?” has asked, genuinely confused. Sam, meanwhile, was rummaging through the items Eleanor had put in her trolley.

“More to the point, why do we need all of this? Neither of us even drinks coffee, for starters.” Sam said, holding up two jars. 

“They were offer, I thought we best stock up while they’re cheap” 

“Stock up for a time when we miraculously develop a taste for a drink we can’t even stand the smell of?!”

“It could happen!”

Sam turned to Harry and spoke “you know what, maybe I will just move in with you”

“Moving in together? Wow Sam, I know you said you thought he was fit but that’s a bit OW! My toe, Sam!” 

Harry supressed a giddy laugh, the kind a 13 year old girl would do when she found out the totally hot guy in her maths class thought she was pretty (or so his friend had told her friend who told her). Sam stared at Harry with wide eyes and pursed lips, hoping he hadn’t heard.

“The next time you do anything even remotely embarrassing I’m telling everyone!” she mumbled to Eleanor through gritted teeth. 

“I’ve got the room next to Louis’s, Sam. If Eleanor was that easily embarrassed then she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye after she comes over”

“OH MY GOD, HARRY!” Eleanor half-shouted, slapping Harry with a box of cornflakes. Sam wasn’t positive, but she was sure she saw Harry mouth “screamer” her way when Eleanor diverted her attention back to the trolley.

She wasn’t sure what it was about this boy, but Sam was determined to spend a bit more time with him, and her upcoming birthday party seemed like the perfect excuse to see him again.

“Anyway, moving on from Eleanors sex life, my birthdays coming up and I’m having a party this weekend. Why don’t you come? Lou will be there, and you can bring the rest of your flat mates, if you want?” 

The silence that followed seemed to last for an eternity and Sam could do nothing but wait with a smile on her face, eager for Harrys reply, hoping he wouldn’t say no.  
Harry, on the other hand, was ecstatic, and was waiting until he was sure he could answer Sam without screaming it excitedly in her face before he spoke.  
“Yeah, sure, yeah. That’d be great, actually. Yeah” He said, trying to sound cool. He lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair nonchalantly, before realising he was most definitely not cool enough to pull that off, which just left his hand fidgeting in mid-air ‘til he dropped it back to his side. Sam seemed not to have noticed, but Eleanor did, and raised her eyebrow questioningly. 

Now it was Sam’s turn to try and hold in child-like excitement. With not much left to say, and both secretly eager to release their inner excitement about their conversation and both also scared that they’ll embarrass themselves even further should it carry on, Harry and Sam said their goodbyes with a smile and left.   
“If there was any such thing as a lady boner, you’d totally have one right now” Eleanor joked, leaning in to Sam and looking over her shoulder at Harry, who was walking in the opposite direction, but staring over his own shoulders and stealing glances at Sam every few steps he took. 

As Sam finished the food shopping, ignoring Eleanor constantly talking in her ear about something or the other, and spending most of her time looking for another sighting of Harry rather than the food on her shopping list, all of her worries and fears of bumping in to John were forgotten, and the fact that he’d most likely turn up at her party didn’t bother her now she knew Harry would be there too. 

-

It was only on the night of her party that Sam realised how naive she was to think she was over John. Despite the fact she was surrounded by her closest friends and the cute boy she keeps bumping in to as if it’s fate, she found herself waiting for her ex’s imminent arrival. She would never say it out loud, but she was excited to see it again, and though she was determined to not be the kind of girl that takes a guy like that back, she’s missed him, and if he was to beg and grovel for her forgiveness and another chance like she hopes he will, she’d probably take him back. One chance, though. He has this one night to prove himself, and if he doesn’t, it’s over for good.

 

-  
Harry was never one to spend too much time on his appearance (truth be told, he’d never really needed too), but he’d changed his outfit at least four times already, and drowned himself in so much aftershave that already two of his flat mates had come in to his room and feigned choking on the smell. He got a cab over to Sam’s house, were the party was, squeezed in to the back of a taxi with Liam, Niall and Zayn, whilst Louis sat upfront because, apparently, the taxi driver may need directions and he’s the only one who knows the way, which somehow undermines the rule of calling shot gun as “everyone knows directions can’t be given from the back”. Harry was squashed between the door and Zayn, who was more tolerable about his fidgeting and shaking leg than any of the other boys would have been. Probably because he was the only one who really understood how nervous Harry was and, though he never said anything to him, Harry thinks Zayn is the only who truly comprehends how much he likes this girl.

-

When Sam opened the door to Harry, Louis, Zayn, Niall and Liam, she wasn’t as happy with seeing them standing there as she would’ve been the other day, and for one fleeting moment she’s sure that they could see the disappointment on her face. She welcomed them in with a hug none-the-less, but was glad to see that Louis done most of the talking while Harry hid nervously at the back of the group as they all made their introductions. She liked Harry. There was no doubt in her mind of that, and while she had invited him here in hopes to spend some more time with him, she couldn’t do that until she’d spoken to John. Maybe it was to give him a second chance, or maybe it was for closure, but she needed to know where she stood with John before she started pursuing other romantic interests. She might dream of a future with Harry, but she has a past with John, and she’s not sure she’s ready to put that behind her just yet.

She wouldn’t just push Harry away though, and when he made his way through the crowds of people dancing in her living room and in to the kitchen where she was pouring herself another drunk, she greeted him happily, truly relieved to see him.

“Having a good time?” he asked, opening the fridge and taking out enough Budweiser for him and the boys. 

“Uhm, Yeah. Not looking forward to having to clean up tomorrow though” Sam replied. She picked up two of the beers and her own drink, and gestured for Harry to follow. Her hair   
was tied up behind her head in a style far too complex for Harry to be able to name, and she wore a flowing, red dress and matching her heels. It seemed to Harry, a boy who had never in his life wore make up (apart from when his older sister Gemma forced him to dress up like a girl and wear it when he was younger, but that was something they agreed to never talk about), that Sam was wearing no make up beside from a bit of black mascara and her bright red, ruby lipstick, that left her with the kind of classy, glamorous yet sexy look of a 60’s queen.

“You sure? You look a bit down?” he asked over the noise of the music and the partiers.

Sam wasn’t sure whether she should talk to Harry about something this personal, she barely knew him after all, and she still remembers the hurt on his face when he found out about John, but there was a genuine caring concern in his voice that comforted Sam, and for the first time in a while, she felt she was talking to a boy she could open up to.

“It’s John.” she said, looking down at the floor. Harry gulped and turned away from Sam, looking ahead. “He text me the other day, telling me he was gonna come so we could talk. I’d hoped to just talk and get some closure at least, but I dunno. I guess I just woke up today really wanting him to be here”  
Sam and Harry took a seat on the couch next to Louis and the rest of the boys, but with their backs turned away from them. She may be useless at shopping, but Eleanor more than made up for that with her party decorations. Strings of fairy lights were draped over every surface and wall hanging possible, lighting up the living room like a Christmas tree. Happy Birthday banners hung from the walls and twenty two “22” shaped balloons were floating around throughout the apartment. The room was almost dark, apart from a lamp in the corner and electric, disco ball shaped lights on every flat surface Eleanor could find. Sam made a mental note to thank Eleanor for all of this, when she was sober enough to remember it. Despite all of the decorations and friends around her, Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling like there was one thing missing.

“If he cares, Sam, he’ll be here” he said with a comforting smile and sympathetic eyes. 

“That’s what I’m worried about” she whispered, more to herself than Harry even though he heard it. She raised her glass to her mouth and looked to the fairy-light covered clock above her. The clock hands were mere seconds away from midnight and her 22nd birthday, and she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Eleanor, clearly tipsy but not yet drunk, began shouting from the other side of the room.

“Sam! It’s your birthday! You’re twenty two!” she shouted. An overwhelming, sinking feeling began to overcome Sam, and the last thing she wanted right now was everybody looking at her. But they were, all eyes were on her. All thoughts of Harry disappeared.

It was like slow motion when Sam placed her drink on the table and stood from the couch. Her mind raced, combing back through thoughts and memories of John as she walked toward the bathroom. She could see on the faces around her that they all knew something was wrong, mouths moving in unison to the tune of happy birthday as she looked around the room. She tried to move her feet quicker, but time relented and seemed to slow further as tears built up on her eye lids and began to pour down her face. She felt an arm wrap around her waist and knew instantly it was Eleanor’s, guiding her down the hall to the bathroom. Sam felt her legs go weak beneath her, as she began to break down. 

“He should’ve been here!” she sobbed.

“Shh, I know. I know” Eleanor croaked. The light was on in the bathroom when Eleanor dragged Sam in and pulled her in to a long embrace, a mix of wet mascara and tears   
dripping on to her shoulder as Sam continued to sob in her eyes.

“He said he’d be here” she wept, her voice broken and weak.

**Author's Note:**

> Full credit to the narrative goes to Taylor Swift, if she didn't have such a way with words and the ability to turn a 5 minute song in to a whole story, then I wouldn't be doing this.
> 
> The characters are loosely based on One Direction. I don't know them, so of course this doesn't completely reflect their personalities at all.
> 
> In all honesty though, you don't really need to like either or both artists to enjoy the story.


End file.
